


Welcome! Everything is- Complicated (but it's happening)

by limin



Series: What's good? [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Episode: s05e12 Safe House, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Jeremy Bearimy baby, Kevin is Shawn, M/M, Reconciliation, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24132055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limin/pseuds/limin
Summary: Raymond, his Raymond. It has been over a decade since he has met the, frankly, most boring and interesting man in this world. Contradictory, yet amazing in every way. Every day feels better than the last until he forgets that there even exists an actual last day.“I’m not built for this horrible, terrible, disgusting, frankly atrocious feeling,” Kevin spats. “I’m a demon.”Or: Shawn comes to term with his emotional attachment, and then some.
Relationships: Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt
Series: What's good? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741252
Comments: 10
Kudos: 128





	Welcome! Everything is- Complicated (but it's happening)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm back with more tgp/b99 crossover because I am:
> 
> \+ Weak 
> 
> \+ Self-indulgence 
> 
> \+ Weak (for Kevin specifically)
> 
> Also, I need to stop starting every fic in this series with someone getting shot but look: everything is fine. Here's a more character study fic on Kevin/Shawn. Enjoy you ding dongs. 
> 
> (No beta we die like Kevin in this fic, so technically not really dying)

Murphy, who is definitely going to the Bad Place, has shot him. 

Wait, no. Every word of that sentence is wrong.

Murphy, who is definitely going to the reformed Bad Place, has shot his bodysuit. 

Better, Shawn thinks to himself as he cracks his neck. It feels stiff, understandable after ramming a car through a wall and hitting a nobody before getting out, throat-punching Murphy, freeing Jake and Raymond and letting his guard down. A bullet lodge at where your trachea is located is horrible, Murphy is horrible, and he would have said he wanted to die except for the fact that he had.

He is back in the Bad Place, in his office. The many files and reports littered his desk, and outside people are busting around, busier than ever. He groans, in annoyance and anger and frustration before standing up and heading out. Even with how long he has been away, or short he supposes - Jeremy Bearimy and all, things have changed. For the better, it seems. 

Vicky is doing a good job directing these dumbasses around, he notes. She must have noticed him because her smile widens and she hops down from where she’s standing, strutting over like the peacock that she is. “Shawn!”

Ah yes, he is Shawn now. He gives her a small smirk, gesturing around. “Dare I say you are doing a good job.”

“Compliment? From you?” Vicky asks, but he can see how she preens under the praise. “Earth has done a number on you, huh?”

“You’re acting like this is the first time,” he mutters.

“It is.”

“Oh.”

Vicky chuckles, and he joins in. There’s a moment of calm between them, in the midst of demons busting around and Shawn feels himself relax the same way he would relax with Raymond after a day of teaching. Earth really has done a number on him. 

“Speaking of, what are you doing back here anyway?” 

“I got killed,” he answers, giving her a sharp grin and Vicky raises an eyebrow. It takes him a minute to realise she’s looking at his very bloody neck with a no-shit look on her face. Maybe that is why she has hopped down and approached him in the first place. “Where’s the human department? I need to get back as soon as possible.”

“Same place, down the hall and to the left. Turn after the third blood fountain, and if you passed meeting room C you’re too far.”

“Ah, of course. Is evil Zumba still a thing in that room?”

Vicky lights up at that, and oh no. Small talk backfires, how predictable and bad for him. Shawn sighs, but he stands there and lets Vicky rant about posture and stance because he’s polite (eug) and proper (disgusting) now. 

Fucking Earth. Ruining everything, and now that he is back here and the change has never been more obvious. He’s...good now. Kevin is good, so by extension, he is good. 

Nah, he’s Shawn and he is anything but good.

At some point, Vicky does stop with her rambling and bids him goodbye, and he waves back to both of their surprise and ducks out. It’s easier to fall into an old habit as he walks to the human department, where he has spent Jeremy Bearimies building very specific skinsuit to torture very specific people before losing interest. 

The last time he was there, it was for the Michael skin suit. Oh, how time flies. 

Shawn opens the door, stepping in and taking in the room. Unlike everything else, this has not changed. There are blueprints on the wall of how the body works, options and customisations and there’s the back room where the fun business actually happens. And then there’s Glenn, cowering at the sight of him but also wanting to please so badly it’s pathetic to look at.

He does not realise Glenn has been relocated here, but he nods at him anyway. “Shut up, Glenn. I need you to fix this up.”

“Oh! O-Of course,” Glenn stutters, standing up quickly and knocking off...whatever behind him. “Um...What is “this” specifically?”

Oh, the way he is so nervous is part amusing part terrible. Shawn smirks, walking closer and leaning down until they’re at eye level. This close, he can see Glenn sweating (still disgusting) and the audible gulp is just so. Much. Better. He grins, and Glenn jumps. 

“My skin suit, you miserable d-bag,” he snarls, and Glenn curls a bit into himself. Oh, it is good to be back to scolding Glenn. Doing it to students doesn’t hit the same way, unfortunately. “The only reason I’m here is that this is damaged, so get to it.”

“Oh god I am so terrified right now,” Glenn manages to say, his voice higher than necessary that it hurts his ears. 

Shawn sighs and places his hand on Glenn’s shoulder in a move that should have been comforting if he doesn’t squeeze. Hard. “I expect nothing short of perfection, or else I’m cocooning your ass, and your torso, and your limbs. And your head, I will display your head in my office in a full view of corgi running around and having fun. It is extremely cute.”

He would know.

Glenn’s shaky exhale let him know the threat is registered, before pulling back. “Go.”

“Yes, oh I’m going, oh Steve Hitler-” 

“Shut up, Glenn.”

* * *

He waits as Glenn works on fixing up Kevin Cozner, flipping through files on his desk, old and new. Not much has changed, it still has a summarise on the first page next to the final score, then follows by however many pages of their entire life after. It also has a section with the improved (or not so much) score below, with a percentage count and some has blank spaces for the architect to scribble down notes and such. Almost like his document back in Columbia.

Shawn scoffs, throwing the file back on the table and leans back with his legs propped up on the desk instead. He doesn’t have time for this, not when his… people are down there, fretting over his corpse. He tries not to think about how Raymond is feeling, how Jake is feeling, how everyone is feeling because feelings are gross and human. 

He, Shawn, is not going to be feeling those. Not here, not right now, not when he’s sitting in the human department when Glenn is doing whatever in the other room. He has a line, the line that separates everything and crossing through it should feel like a flip has been flipped. 

The file gets nudged by his shoes, papers come tumbling down onto the floor. The urge to get up and collect all of the paper and sort them alphabetically is not foreign, he has over a decade of Earth time for that after all, but it is. More grumbling, before he actually crouches down and picks the damn thing up. 

Kevin Cozner is a boring goody two-shoes, Kevin Cozner is also him. He is good.

Well isn't that the worst thing that has ever happened to him. The thing with Michael was, at the very least, fun and challenging. Figuring out the new system was, and still is, fun and he can still flatten their psychological penis/ego. Being good, and being good with Raymond and enjoying a boring life is not fun, but it is something more. Something he cherishes. 

That is why he is here, waiting for Glenn to fix the bullet hole after all. 

Shawn sighs again. Why can’t anything be simple? 

“Bad Janet,” he calls out, turning left and predictable Bad Janet pops up to his right with the familiar ding. 

“Sup Dingus. Nice to see your ugly white mug back,” She (not a girl) greets and he can tell a note of actual affection in her voice. How many times has he rebooted Bad Janet out of boredom?

“Note down Raymond Holt, Jake Peralta, Terry Jeffords, Amy Santiago, Rosa Diaz, Gina Linetti, Charles Boyle,” he lists out and pauses. “And Cheddar, note down Cheddar. You know the one.”

“Oh please, who?” Bad Janet asks back, but he knows his god damn robot thing enough to know it’s just harmless sass. “And why?”

“Earth reason,” he shrugs. “Do notify me when those skin tags get here.”

“Don’t have that high of hope on your own little team cockroach huh?” 

“Please, those turds can’t get to the Good Place first try if they wish. Well, most of them, but we will have to wait and see now, don’t we?” he finishes darkly, before remembering this is his own team cockroach. Ah, a force of habit, sounding evil.

Bad Janet sighs heavily, but she does what she’s asked for. “Anything else you dumb nuts?”

“Not yet. Go suck,” Shawn dismisses her with a wave of hand, and there’s a small ding before Bad Janet is gone.

* * *

Glenn takes his time with his flesh bag, but when it’s done it...actually looks decent. Kevin Cozner looks as good as new, like how he was before the safe house ordeal yet somehow better.

Shawn turns the suit’s head around, inspecting the bone structure before turning down to look at the neck. Not a bullet hole, perfect. 

“Terrible work,” he says to Glenn’s face, meaning terrible-terrible and not terrible-good. Glenn's hopeful expression melts into disappointment and sadness, probably at himself. No, definitely at himself.

Raymond would also be disappointed if he’s seeing him right now, Shawn thinks to himself. Actually, Raymond would be seeing Shawn instead of Kevin, but the disappointment will still shine through. 

Glenn is a decent demon, all naggy, sucking up and that time he turned aside. He’s even a bit proud of that. “You are improving though, keep it up you sad sack,” he adds, and Glenn’s smile is blinding. 

“Really? You really really think so? Like, is this you being sarcastic or you like, actually think so?”

“If you keep going it will be sarcasm,” he growls, but Glenn is still smiling and he hesitantly smiles back. “Do you want to order something out?”

He supposes he can take some time out of his schedule. They have been working together for so many Jeremy Bearimies, and time is weird anyway. 

Glenn squeals like a teenage girl. Shawn hates it, he swears.

* * *

He puts up with the sudden outing with Glenn the same way he puts up with the nine-nine precinct: reluctantly at first even if he is the one who invites them over, and then begrudgingly enjoying the company. 

But when Glenn is not trying to be a suck-up, it’s nice to listen to him talk about his own interest. Jeremy Bearimies of working with Glenn and he doesn’t know that he’s amazing at evil Zumba, or how architecture isn’t up his alley even back in the day and designing skinsuit suits him better, pun intended. He likes chatting with Joseph Stalin about the bachelor, is a bachelor himself, wants to get it on with Vicky but he’s a coward, all of the blackmail material.

Gossip, he means gossip. 

He gives Glenn a nod on his way out, hoping he has conveyed his approval through the gesture because despite everything Glenn is good at his job.

* * *

He gives the Doorman a toad on his way out. 

Fred gives him an I-know-what-you-are-doing look, but accepts the black sheep in his frog collection anyway.

* * *

He is supposed to wake up in a hospital, or worse, a coffin, but instead he’s a far away from home. Kevin mildly wonders what will Raymond think when his husband’s body suddenly goes missing, like it doesn’t exist in the first place.

A quick check with his phone tells him where he is, and Kevin would have walked to the nearest subway station and gone back to his house, or maybe drops by the precinct but another address catches his eyes.

He has reconciled with Vicky and Glenn, what’s another meeting with a demon turns good?

* * *

“Shawn!”

“It’s Kevin,” he grumbles back, but he lets himself be pulled into a tight hug by Michael anyway. Even when he’s Kevin, he still doesn’t do physical contact and maybe that’s why it works with Raymond. They can show their affection through other means and not by touch. It works. “This is getting too long for a hug, even for you.”

Michael doesn’t let him go. “Oh come on old friend, let me indulge in this.”

“Well, if you must.”

“I do.”

He lets Michael hug him for another minute according to his counting before clearing his throat, and Michael jerks back like he has forgotten where he is. It’s a nice look on Michael’s face, confused but also happy. Happy. To see him, Shawn, Kevin at the moment. 

“Are you going to let me in?” he asks, and Michael nods and moves too quickly, stepping aside and letting him step in the humble apartment. “Thank you.”

Michael also looks shocked at his thank you, and Kevin takes a bit of pleasure from that. He can still surprise Michael, after all this time, the same way Michael surprises him. 

“How are you doing, Sh- Kevin? Kevin?” 

“My human name, so to speak,” he answers, heading straight to the kitchen where wine is usually stored. He can indulge himself today. “No rose? Really? Jeremy and Bearimies later and you still don’t have any taste whatsoever.”

Michael chuckles. It relaxes him, to his dismay. “Sorry that I don’t have any taste, Kevin.”

“Good, you should be,” he says, the insult slips out so easy it’s freeing. He is still a demon, he can still be himself. “How has being a flesh bag been treating you? Feeling any more mushy feelings?”

Not very subtle of him, but this is Michael. He doesn’t need subtlety with Michael. 

“Well Kevin,” Michael repeats his name like it’s unusual, Kevin supposes it is, and he has simply gotten used to it while Michael still only knows of him as Shawn. “Life has been great. You know, I have finally learned the guitar and finished my song. Let me play it for you.”

He also doesn’t object, sitting through Michael’s frankly horrible song. He blankly told him that when the last chord fades out, an insult with a tag on compliment about his F chord. 

“Why are you here, Kevin?” 

Another thing about Michael is how good he is at seeing through him. Their little tête-à-tête at the fake Good Place replays in his mind. 

“How do you get used to this?” he asks. No need to be coy, it’s Michael. Michael who starts all of this, Michael with his soul squad, Michael who is a human, more human than he ever could be. “Don’t even attempt to lie your way out, it worked during the experiment but not this time. I know you have fallen for your guitar instructor.”

“I can’t hide anything from you, huh?” Michael replies, ignoring the fact that Kevin has been keeping tabs on his life. “You don’t need my answer, Kevin. You already know how.”

Raymond, his Raymond. It has been over a decade since he has met the, frankly, most boring and interesting man in this world. Contradictory, yet amazing in every way. Every day feels better than the last until he forgets that there even exists an actual last day.

“I’m not built for this horrible, terrible, disgusting, frankly atrocious feeling,” Kevin spats. “I’m a demon.

“Who says you can’t be both? Demons have feelings, Kevin.”

“Yes, disgust, anger, weird pleasure that comes from making people suffer. Not love.” Michael brightens up at the L-word. Predictable Michael. “Love requires you to care, and I don’t know if I’m doing it right.”

Raymond doesn’t have a problem with him, with them, why is he worrying now? 

Ah yes, because he got back to the afterlife and has an honest to god existential crisis. 

Michael smiles. It’s a soft smile, it’s also a wise smile, and despite the fact that Kevin is much much older than Michael, he feels like he is just a newly formed entity again. “You know what Kevin? The moment you ask that question, you know you’re on the right track. That is caring.”

He hums. 

“I hate it, and I hate you,” Kevin says. Michael chuckles. “You will suffer when you die, Michael. I am going to be responsible for your neighbourhood, and you have a lot to make up for. Don’t think just because the Judge let you off easily doesn’t mean I will.”

“I expect nothing less. Now, tell me about who got you feeling this way.”

“Oh, I am doing that only to prove how much better I am at this love business. Listen and take note, Michael. It all started when I called the NYPD to write an article and misinform the public-”

* * *

He bids Michael go suck, get a “Take it sleazy” in return when the sun sets and the sky changes. He leaves, but not before giving him a proper good bottle of wine, because what’s the point of being human if you can’t enjoy a good bottle of wine? Michael is doing it all wrong, but he is content, and maybe there is no wrong. 

Kevin sighs. It’s late enough that Raymond would be back home, and he waves a cab down and gives the driver his address instead of taking the tub. At this point he doesn’t even care how he will explain his supernatural survival from that gunshot, or how did he just disappear like that, he just wants to see Raymond again. To give him a kiss and sink into the warm glow, to tell Raymond that he loves him so much that it hurts and he would launch a coop if the afterlife doesn’t treat him right. 

Leaving out the last part, of course. 

He pats himself down for the keys, finding it easily and unlocking the door with a small click. Cheddar is there when he opens the door, and Kevin smiles. He used to launch these with a cannon, and now he is living with one and loving it, him, enough that Cheddar’s name gets put on the list. 

Cheddar loves it when he pets behind his ears, so Kevin does exactly that. 

“Kevin?” Raymond’s voice rings out, and footsteps follow. He looks up just in time to see his husband walking into the hallway, dressed down in a simple sweater. He looks positively handsome, Kevin notes. “Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry, I got caught up with some old friends,” he answers, standing up and walking over, close enough to press a chaste kiss on Raymond’s very tempting lips. 

“An apology is not needed,” Raymond says, dazed. Kevin chuckles. “However, I was worried. You have not been answering your phone.”

Oh. He pulls it out from his pocket, turning it on and seeing a few dozen missed calls. “That, I apologize for. I have to say, I got rather caught up.”

“Apology accepted. You don’t need to worry about your phone anymore, Kevin.”

“Hmmm?”

“You are going to a safe house, and it is in your best interest to not have any internet or network connection to the outside world.”

Oh. He loves Jeremy Bearimy and non-linear time. One part of him wants to spill Murphy’s location right here, right now. The other part wants him to stick to what he remembers: stay in the safe house, throw a tantrum, go to the library, get Holt captured, run over a goon again but this time he will be better. Throat-punching, and then more precaution. He does not fancy dying. Blood is gross and it’s even grosser when it is everywhere outside, where blood should not be.

Kevin nods, kissing Raymond again and passing him his phone. “Of course. Let me pack my clothes and we can go.”

“It is not needed. I have gone ahead and packed everything you may need.”

“Considerate. Thank you for doing that,” he smiles, pauses. Then, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Kevin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this! Now go do something good :)


End file.
